Operation Midnight
Log Title: Operation Midnight Characters: Barghest, Alley-Viper 2858, Cookie, and Wet Down Location: Pittsburgh, PA Date: 9/25/2018 TP: America Burning TP Pittsburgh, the Pitt thanks to a video game that came out a few years back. On the south east shore of the Allegheny river, a red brick industrial building shaped like a U with the open end facing the river, and a brown brick warehouse building attached to it's east walls. A cell of the dwindling CIA numbers has been hiding here, it was an old location, marked burned, and the 8 men and women inside were arranged with their backs to one another, working from laptops and tablets scrounged together to compile and analyze. "Movement in the northeast, Maine and Connecticut - some new player out of D.C. as well, no info on his methods though." "Got a name yet?" "No, not yet. Guy has a dog helm though. Wierdos." What they were unaware of, in the service tunnels that lead to a river outlet, a number of figures stand, slouched, awaiting their go order. Outside, across the frontage road, on the roof of a long manufacturing building, Alley Vipers are crouched, waiting as well, while Barghest checks a few items on his wrist-tablet, frowning inside his helmet. He adjusts the FGM-148 he and a number of his fellow Cobra agents are holding, << Fire team, on signal prep systems, ascender launch team are to go once the smoke clears, we need stable zip lines eh? >> There are several nods and chuckles on the comms and more squelches indicating they are ready << I'm just saying that it's weird timing. >> 2858 whispers to the AV next to him, his SMG being put into condition one as he chatted. << I mean, I get it. He's old. Hell, his callsign only had THREE digits. The guy's probably pushing sixty. >> The Viper paused, << Holy shit. If he's sixty, how old is the Commander? >> His masked gaze turns to 2171 in horror. << Are we fighting for octogenerians? >> The Alley Viper gets a bit of a reproach from 2171, and mutedly is pointed towards the target. He then gets his zipline readied. << Okay, whatever. This is pretty cool. Firing on full auto, while ziplining down to raid somewhere. I can scratch that off my bucket list. >> Cookie drives an extended cab along the streets. She's hoping this'll be as routine as some of the other checks she's been on the past week or so, but there's weapons within grabbing range. And, you know, a SEAL in the passenger seat. "Almost there," she mutters, checking the GPS impatiently. The passenger runs through a mental checklist as he scans the surroundings. As the near the building Wet Down points to the little road that runs close to the river, and the opposite side of the building. "Take that one. Not an optimum exfil route, but better than dealing with a parking lot." His hands move to check his concealed weapons one last time, and eye the selection of small weapons at hand; just in case. << Javelin team, fire. >> Barghest ain't in his 60s, but he doesn't know their trying to figure out his age. Sighting through the targeting system, focusing on a laser set by one of the others, he and the Javelin team fire, a quartet of missiles thunk out of their launchers and then come to life, roaring across the distance. << Ascender team, prep for fire at solid points! Fire at will! >> the U shaped building is rocked as the missiles strike home, blasting open holes in wall, ceiling, and blow away small sections of the floor. Bricks tumble through a smoke and dust cloud that already starts to whisk away in the river breezes. Explosions impact on the building. It doesn't give much of an opening between maximum effectiveness and getting caught in a blast radius. Still, 2858 fires off his zipline at the building and leaps off the roof. << For Grampa Cobra! >> If you hadn't been hearing his conversation, the line'd seem out of place. As he slides, part of the roof of the target building shifts and crumbles...it happens to be the area he had ziplined to. The line goes slack, and 2858 tumbles down to the ground, several moments behind the others AVs. << I'm okay! >> He sidles up beside the others as weapons are readied. In a moment of passive-aggressiveness, he adds to one accusatory, << Not that /you/ asked. >> The other AV rolls his eyes. Cookie sees the smoke billow upwards. "Shit." She floors the accelerator, taking the back road Wet Down indicated at speed. The truck fishtails a bit but avoids going into the water, and she drifts it into the parking area behind the building. Wet Down reaches out and grabs one of the MP5s before it goes tumbling out of reach. "It had to happen sooner or later," he says. As Cookie brings the truck around and slidesit into place the SEAL opens his door and, using the momentum from the maneuver, and his own muscles leaps out onto the ground and rolls up into a kneeling stance. Inside the building the CIA operatives look up "Did you h" the man never finishes when the missiles hit, the shockwaves knocking the men and women over as they scramble for their weapons. Ascender lines strike, but some do not seat properly, and while some hit, others bounce off the ground or off of rubble. Several Vipers go down in the parking lot when their lines come loose, cursing and shouting as several manage to tuck and roll into the fall while others go down like sacks of meat and sticks. The rest sail down the lines, weapons out, firing into the breaches. The Joes, for now, are out of the line of fire in the parking U shape of the building courtyard. Windows light up with small arms fire, and the CIA agents light off exfil request beacons. Cookie jumps out of the truck and heads for the back doors. Unfortunately, the briefing didn't include the layout of the building, so she spends valuable time trying to find the people she's here to help. The Chief Warrant Officer charges into the building, assessing rooms with a practiced eyes for potential threats as he heads straight for the CIA Operatives. He kicks the final door open and shouts, "G.I. Joe grab what oyou can and smash whatever you can! It's time to leave!" He continues to move past them, putting himself in harms way to but them more time, and provide cover fire. Sailing into the room with the CIA spooks, sheild out, legs tucked up, Barghest lands in a roll to rise to a kneeling posture. Tucked behind his defenses, swinging his SMG up in his right hand, the Cobra agent hesitates for a moment. He knows that voice, snarling inside his helmet Barghest swings his weapon around to sweep fire across the Joe and CIA forces as they scramble for cover and the SEAL charges. There is no finesse to the shooting, only a wide sweep meant to pin down or cause injury. << Midnight >> he snarls into his comms. Down below, heads lift and shoulders slam against maintenance room doors. Alley-Viper 2858 kicks open what's left of the door, his foot clearing the area. He really didn't need to, but it was for fun. Following Barghest's lead, he starts spraying gunfire inside, as he approaches Wet Down's rear guard position. << FBI! Nobody move! >> He bellows as he dives behind a desk for his own cover. A pair of CIA operatives take bullets, one in the leg, one in the side, with the type of scream a kidney shot elicits. Wet Down's appearance, and his covery fire, keep the other six from injury though. The Alley-Vipers on the attack shrink back to cover when the Joes make their grand entrance. Below there is are cracking sounds, and snarling. Not the typical sort of sounds one would expect from Vipers, or even B.A.T. pincer reinforcements. Even with Wet Down's assurance about who he is the competing call from the, heavy weapons, wielding Alley Viper causes the Agents to pause just long enough. Wet Down phsyicall grabs onto one and shoves them towards the door. "Just go! Forget the data." The seal shoots up as many of the electronic devices as he can before pulling out of the room and narck towards the truck; suffering a few small wounds in the process. Cookie looks around quickly. These are spooks, right? She left her grenade launcher behind, but these guys often have fun toys. And sure enough, here's a small pile of plastic explosive. She quickly sets up a nice improvised bomb in the time it takes people to scramble out the doors and tosses it behind them, leaving herself seconds to get out of the area before it goes. With Wet Down's firing at CIA tech, and his pushing precious captives towards exfil, things are becoming irritating for the former Alley Viper. Barghest spots the incoming IED and blinks <> ducking back behind his shield, eyes closing as he slams the point down into the floor and fires an anchor spike - rank and codenames have their advantages, seeking to weather the concussion behind the curved impromptu wall. As his helmet's audio-systems re-engage now that the blast no longer detected he bites a toggle << Kong! >> he barks onto another channel and a bluesh fist slams through a door, and another, fleshy tentacles pushing through the holes. Barghest lifts the MMG on his shoulder strap and stands from behind his shield, opening up at full auto, trying to push out the Joes now. << Plonkers disrupted a perfectly good trial run! >> Alley-Viper 2858 was already behind some cover when Barghest called out the explosive. The room was getting shot up pretty bad. Sparks were flying from the electronics, 2858 didn't have a great deal of expertise with computer systems, but he knew that any electrical fires were going to make things worse. Which meant...He eyed the hardened power lines on the inside of the walls. Drawing his knife, he slashed at the line to disrupt the power systems. Of course, there was no telling if any special data was to be left unsaved. << What in the hell are you... ?! >> Barghest never finishes the sentence as the power is cut, systems going black, forcing the Vipers to switch to infared and lowlight systems. The CIA forces, with Cookie and Wet Down's aid are able to get out, and away, before there are any captures, or before they could see what was coming through the doors. Outside two cobra gunships move into flank posture for a flying brick that moves close to the largest of the holes where the Alley Vipers begin to exfil themselves, as there are police, and ANG being routed this way. Snatching up what computers they can, shot up or otherwise, they look to make an exit - not pursue. << Vapor >> A single word into the comms and the banging stops, whatever was trying to pound through the doors stopping and disappearing into the sewer and the river. After ushering the agents into the truck Wet Down takes the wheel and proceeds to get the Joes, and their recuees, back to less hostile territory. Relying heavily on the reflexes and tactics refined in training, and actual combat.